


reveille

by catsvspatriarchy



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:48:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22525072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsvspatriarchy/pseuds/catsvspatriarchy
Summary: Reveille:  a call to rise.orKelly accepts a gift.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 17





	reveille

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello friends,
> 
> i wasn't sure if people would be interested in reading this kind of short filler scene, but i wrote it because i would have really liked to have seen this on the show, and maybe others will be interested too. i hope you enjoy it!
> 
> i appreciate any comments!

Kelly's fussing with her jacket, trying to find a place to lay it down. It's ironic, she thinks, that James's decision to leave was influenced by her advice to be still and listen to his heart, and here she is, unable to be still.

"You don't even have a closet?" she asks fretfully, finally slinging it over the back of James's couch.

"National City property values," he says, with a faint grin. "As you'd know, now you're one of us."

Kelly grimaces. "My place is nicer than this and I'm pretty sure I'm paying less rent. If you're not obsessed with being in the middle of the action all the time you don't have to live in the middle of the city."

"Come on," James says. "You like a little action too."

Kelly shakes her head. "I've seen enough. Enough for a lifetime."

James looks soberly at her. "Come here," he says, and Kelly stops pacing and sits down beside him.

"I made tea," he says, pointing at the two cups steaming gently on the table in front of them.

"I saw," Kelly says. "I appreciate the gesture. Where did you even get tea? You hate tea.”

James shrugs. “Ex-girlfriend left it here.”

“Ah,” Kelly says. “Same ex-girlfriend who was conspicuously missing from your going-away announcement party?”

“It wasn't exactly a party.”

“So, yes,” Kelly says. “You don't think you should tell her you're leaving town?”

“Word'll get around.”

“I guess it will.”

“I did love her, you know.” James's voice is quiet; an uncharacteristic show of feelings pulls at his mouth, his brow. “It's just – you've got to share values, you know? There's things you can't compromise on.”

Kelly's touched; a little confused, but she can hear the emotion in his voice. “I agree,” she says finally.

“So speaking of, things are going okay with you and Alex?”

Kelly picks up her tea, wrapping her hands around the mug. It gives her a moment to think, and she inhales the steam off it, feeling the warmth. “They are,” she says, trying to keep her expression neutral. “Things are going well.”

James laughs, and flicks her on the arm with a finger. “Loosen up a bit, Kelly.”

Kelly flinches away, almost spilling her tea. She holds up a warning finger, and carefully sets her mug back down on the table. Then she wraps an arm around James's neck, smacking him on the shoulder with the flat of her loose hand.

“Ow!”

“I,” _smack_ , “Am trained,” _smack_ , “In combat, Jimmy. Do not,” _smack_ , “Come at me.”

“Ow, ow, I get it, okay!”

Kelly lets him go, and he shuffles a little further away from her on the couch, giving her a look of mock terror.

“I'm sorry I ever messed with you!”

“You should be,” Kelly says, picking up her tea again and taking a sip.

“I'm the Guardian, you know.”

“I'm aware,” says Kelly.

“So, it's bad for my image, getting beat up by a girl.”

“Bad for your ego, maybe.”

“That, too,” James concedes with a grin. “You want something a little stronger?” he points to her drink. “I really don't want to drink that stuff.”

Kelly considers. “Sure, okay.”

He gets up and goes into his spartan kitchen; opens cabinets and pulls out a bottle.

“When are you going to start packing?” Kelly asks, as he finds glasses and pours them each a drink.

“I figure I'll take enough with me to get by, and then come back one weekend. My rent's paid for the next month.”

“Typical,” Kelly says, accepting the glass from him.

“Salut,” he says, and touches his glass to hers.

Kelly takes a deep drink, savoring the taste. She looks around the apartment. It's decorated simply, spotlessly tidy, and mostly characterless. There are a few photos of friends on a side table, some black-and-white prints from James's portfolio framed on the wall, and a Metropolis Bulldogs pennant that's probably Kelly's age. Not much else. His furniture's simple and practical, a big-screen TV the primary decoration feature.

It's different from Kelly's place, from the care she puts into decorating her surroundings exactly as she likes it. She thinks there's probably an aspect of control in her apartment - things in her apartment can be exactly how she likes them, while the world outside it will never be - but there's also one of comfort, of respite from the rest of her life.

She wonders what James's apartment says about him.

"So," he says slowly, rolling the glass in his hand. "Alex."

"One last check-in before you go?"

"One first check-in, more like it," he says. "I know I haven't exactly been - Kelly, I know we haven't always been close. But if you need me, I'm always gonna be there."

Kelly reaches over and covers his hand with her own. James looks down at their joined hands; looks up at her. She smiles.

"I know," she says. "I'm there for you, too. Day or night."

He nods, but she can tell there's more he wants to say. She waits.

"I trust Alex. With my life. She's good people. Kara, too. They'll take care of you."

Kelly inclines her head. "We'll - take care of each other."

"Right, right," James says. "I'm just saying. If it matters - I approve. I'm happy for you."

Kelly thinks about it for a moment. "It matters," she says. "And I'm glad. I don't need anyone watching out for me, though. I can take care of myself."

"You're my baby sister," James says. "I'm always gonna watch out for you."

Kelly puts her glass down, then, and leans in to hug him. He seems surprised, and it takes him a moment to hug back, his arms around her back. When she pulls back, she looks him clearly in the eyes.

"My sexuality - it's never been an issue for you. I'm grateful for that," she says, aware she's speaking a little stiffly. It's not something they ever really talk about. Feelings and emotions are not Olsen family specialties.

James waves a hand at her, like it's nothing. "I know it's not nothing to other people, not always. Ma - "

"Mm," says Kelly, cutting him off, with a tight-lipped smile.

"She's never going to be happy that you're not settled in the suburbs with two point four kids."

Kelly picks up her glass and takes another drink. "She hasn't been that happy with a lot of my life decisions, honestly. But she loves me. I get that."

"We both do," says James. "So I don't have to threaten Alex in case she ever upsets my baby sister?"

"Do not," says Kelly, seriously. "That's so - ugh, patriarchal and condescending."

James holds up his hands again. "Kidding, kidding."

"Good."

"There is another reason I asked you to come back here, though."

"I figured it was to help you start cleaning your apartment and pack up."

"I can do my own cleaning. Who's being patriarchal and condescending now?"

"That doesn't even make any sense," Kelly says, and laughs.

"Seriously," he says.

Kelly sobers up. "What is it?"

James looks at her for a moment. They don't spend a lot of time in reflection together. Kelly's there as next of kin when he's in hospital, she calls him at holidays, they love each other. They do. They just don't do emotional moments. It's odd for them. She shifts a little uncomfortably under his gaze, although she knows it shouldn't be awkward: he's evaluating his life, saying goodbye to parts of it. Saying goodbye to the new closeness they'd found.

She's being maudlin, she thinks, and shakes off the thought. There's a million ways for them to stay in touch. They'll just make more effort, that's all.

She's still considering when James reaches under the couch and pulls something out. As she watches, he wraps it onto his forearm, stands up and flicks out his wrist, and the Guardian shield unfolds in front of her.

It's fascinating - obviously, she's seen it before, but the technicality of it is so complex and curious to her. It opens so smoothly, like liquid, it looks thin and light in motion. But she's seen it in action, she knows how strong it is, how protective.

"You just store it under your couch?" she asks finally.

"No closets, remember?" James says, and he's not looking at her, but at the shield, and he still has this kind of reflective look on his face that he's had all night, that he's had for the last few months, if Kelly's honest.

It's a leaving kind of look; it's a goodbye to all this.

And it's a twinge in her heart, suddenly. They've come so far in a few months; National City is her home now, and James has been a big part of that. She blinks hard, and looks away, out toward the window.

"So this is what I wanted to talk to you about," James says, and then she hears him move, take a step toward her. "Hey," he says, and puts a hand on her face, turning her chin ever-so-gently toward him. "Hey."

They don't touch; that's another thing the Olsens don't do. They'll hug when it's life-or-death, but Kelly doesn't think James has ever touched her like this before, or not since they were kids, and suddenly the dampness in her eyes is overflowing.

"Oh, no, no, no," says James. "Please don't do that."

"I'm not crying," Kelly says, and waves him away, wiping at her eyes. Her hands come away wet. "Okay, maybe I'm crying a little. Kleenex?"

James seems relieved to have a task, and walks awkwardly back to his kitchenette, shield still in hand. He brings the box back for Kelly, sits it in front of her, and then sits back down on the couch himself, laying the shield beside him.

She takes a few deep breaths to compose herself, and pulls a few tissue out of the box to dab at her eyes. She's reminded of her patients; of the particular rituals and comforts of trauma therapy. There's something about being given a moment without speaking, of being allowed to hold on and calm yourself.

He leaves her be for a few minutes, and they just sit quietly. Then, James stands up, picks up the shield, and with a twist of his arm, folds it back into place.

"You ready?" he asks her, and Kelly nods, although she isn't fully sure that she is.

He offers her a hand to stand up, though, and guides her to extend her arm, and straps the folded shield on to it. He shows her how to secure the straps to keep it in place and keep it on the inside of her arm, at least partly concealed.

It's lighter than Kelly expected; less cold and metallic. It feels comfortable. It feels like an extension of her arm.

"Then you - " James starts to gesture and Kelly follows his movement. "Wait!" he says, and takes a step back. "Wait until I get out of the way; you trying to kill me?"

"Sorry," Kelly says, with a faint smile. She takes a step back, away from him, and swings her arm like he showed her. 

The shield unfolds as she's seen it before, but somehow it's different this time. It's beautiful in its design, like a butterfly unfolding its wings, and when it opens it's more of a weight, but it's a comfortable balance along her arm. It's mesmerizing, the movement and the strength and lightness of the material; the silver and the black.

"It's completely - " Kelly says, and then stops herself. It's a strange feeling, almost punch-drunk, how natural this feels, how much a part of her that she hadn't realized was missing. "It's so - functional."

James knows exactly what she means, and smiles delightedly. "Absolutely," he says. "Winn and I - we didn't want anything extra, you know, weighing me down? It's exactly built for its purpose. It's perfect."

"Nothing's perfect," Kelly says, experimentally, gently, swinging her arm.

"This comes close," James says. "Okay, now to close it back down - " He shows her by folding his arm back into himself, twisting his fingers around slowly. "You need to press down here," he says, taking a step toward her and showing her on the shield. "We didn't want it to close automatically in the middle of a fight."

_In the middle of a fight_ , Kelly thinks, a little anxiously. She doesn't want to be in the middle of anything like that any more; but this is an instrument that can be used to protect, to save people, that can't - she thinks - be used for harm.

"You should probably take it with you," she says, but even as she says it, she can't take her eyes off the shield, as she folds her arm back into her side and watches it retract. 

"Nah," says James, watching her. "You're going to need it more than me."

"I'm not Supergirl," Kelly says, but instead of unstrapping it from her arm, she flexes again, extends and watches it open. "I'm not anyone's superhero."

"I don't know about that," James says. “Anyway. It's yours now. Keep it safe. Keep yourself safe.”

Kelly nods assent, finally. “I'll keep other people safe.”

“Whenever you can,” James says. “That's what we do.”

It is; Kelly agrees, and the things Olsens do not do pales in comparison, really. 

“You should get going,” James says, after a moment.

“Kicking me out?” Kelly asks. She retracts the shield again, then picks up her glass and drinks the rest in one swallow. 

“Your girl's going to be waiting for you.”

“She is,” Kelly says. “You're new life's going to be waiting for you.”

James groans.

“What, too cheesy?”

James holds his thumb and index finger apart an inch. “Never gonna get past the editor.”

“Everyone's a critic,” Kelly says, and making sure the shield is secured, steps forward to hug him. He's big and warm and comforting; it's not a thing they do, but she thinks they should.

“I'll miss you,” she says.

“Be careful out there.”

“Don't worry about me. I've got some help at my back.”

James gives her a long look. There's a light in his eyes – he can see his future, ahead, glowing, and maybe Kelly's too. “Always,” he tells her.


End file.
